Our Little Spanish Cousin

by Mary F. Nixon-Roulet

"But there is still another gift for thee and thy sister," said his father, and he led them to the door. There stood a wonderful little donkey, his bridle decorated with streaming ribbons and bells, his kind eyes blinking as he turned his head and seemed to say, "Hello, Little Master, are you and I going to be great friends?"

"Oh, papa, is that for us?" cried Fernando, while Juanita clapped her tiny hands with delight. It took Fernando but a moment to spring on the donkey's back, but his mother cried, warningly:

"Be careful, son! Remember how the little Prince of Granada rode too fast through the streets, and fell from his pony and was killed."

"Have no fear," her husband said, smiling, "the donkey will not go fast enough to hurt him; that is why I selected him." And he placed Juanita up behind her brother, bidding Manuel walk beside them, while Mazo, unbidden, jumped around.

Everything else that Fernando had sank into insignificance when compared to the little donkey, which he named Babieca, and which he and Juanita rode whenever they had a chance. Babieca was a kind little beast, though something of a rogue. He seemed to know that he must play no tricks when Juanita rode him, and he behaved himself well; but when Fernando rode, it was quite another matter. Babieca would prick up his long ears and go along quietly, then stop suddenly without saying "by your leave," and, of course, Fernando would go over his head. He would not hurt himself at all, and the naughty little mule would look at him wonderingly as if to say: "Now what on earth are you doing down there?" Fernando soon grew to expect such antics and was on the lookout for them.

"ALL THE PEOPLE OF THE TOWN WHO HAD SUCH ANIMALS DROVE THEM DOWN TO THE CHURCH TO BE BLESSED."

When St. Anthony's Day came, of course Babieca had to go with the other four-footed friends of the saint, to be blessed and insured from all harm through the year. The seventeenth of January is the day of St. Anthony, patron of mules, horses, and donkeys, and a grand parade took place. All the people of the town who had such animals drove them down to the church to be blessed and to get a barley wafer. Many of the animals were gaily decorated with streamers and ribbons, and some with flowers; and all along the streets small booths were set up containing little images of St. Anthony and barley cakes. Babieca behaved very well at his blessing, though his refractory tongue did try to nibble the priest's stole; but some of the horses kicked and neighed, and, with the braying of the many donkeys and mules, there was a din not often heard in staid Granada.

There were no more fêtes for the time being, and Fernando, a trifle spoiled by all the gaiety, had to return to his studies again. It was a long month before carnival time, but his thoughts went forward to that delightful season, and it seemed to the little boy as if it would never come. However, as "all things come to him who will but wait," the great day arrived at last, and Fernando was wild with joy. Carnival time is just before the beginning of Lent, and is a season of great merriment. Under a turquoise sky, with no clouds to mar its fairness, there is a pageant almost like those of the days of chivalry, and Fernando and Juanita, attended by their faithful Manuel and Dolores, saw it all. Fernando dressed as a page, and his sister as a court lady of the days of Isabella the Catholic, and they were masked, as are all the people who throng the streets on these gay days.